Dust in the Wind
by SalvainKarnan
Summary: Supernatural AU based on 'The End'. After Dean experiences the full effects of 2014 Apocalypse, Zachariah has another trick to try and get him to sign on the dotted line. Forced to read the diary entries of his future friends, the Winchester will realise just how destructive saying "No" will be. This was a collaboration with my friend Zoe. Links for fic's art on my profile page.
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

The grimy motel room sat empty, its single occupant gone. Dimly flickering over the sparse kitchenette, an old lamp exposed the stains on the grey-blue walls. Suddenly, the world was plunged in darkness, a gust of wind tearing through the room.

Appearing in a golden glow, Castiel glanced around, a frown upon his, usually benign, face; this was truly one of the worst motel rooms he had ever set eyes on, and he had seen Gomorrah. Wandering, he searched for the man who had booked the room.

"Dean?" He called "Is this another one of those 'pranks'?" The strange man emphasised the last word with a exaggerated hand gesture. "Dean?"

Suddenly sensing that something was very wrong, he froze. Slowly, a concealed, seemingly silver, blade slid from his sleeve into his waiting hand. For a minute he waited. Then two, expecting an attack from his brothers at any moment. Closing his eyes, he sought answers from what the Winchesters had dubbed 'angel radio'. The whispered conversations were cryptic, as if they didn't want something to be known. Only one angel could command so many to hold 'radio silence'.

"Zachariah," He groaned. With another gust of wind, Castiel, angel of The Lord, vanished, the lamp fading back up.

Glaring, Dean looked upon the familiar face of his brother. It was definitely his body, yet, the one controlling it certainly wasn't his Sammy. It was unnerving to see somebody that had known almost his entire life, fought for and protected stare back at him like that. Smiling, Lucifer relished the despair that crossed Dean's features. But his quarrel wasn't with this Dean, the one he wanted already lay in a crumpled heap a few metres away. Sparing the mortal in front of him, with one last glance, he turned and walked away.

Dean felt sick. This was wrong; it wasn't meant to end this way. Glancing at the bodies littering the ground, he knew, or would know, all of them, and apparently he was the one who sacrificed them. Looking at his future self's broken body, he wished he had Ruby's knife. Desire for revenge filled him, even though he knew any attempts would be futile. Surveying the scene a few moments longer, the young man turned to confront the whistling of wings behind him. Reaching out a hand, Zachariah roughly tapped the boy on the forehead. Suddenly, the old factory, and landscape of corpses, was gone. Instead, they stood in a golden room, decorated with a single chair and an ancient writing desk. Sat upon it was the balding angel Zachariah, garbed in his usual, expensive, suit.

"So, now you know..." Drawled the old angel. "You can't win. You can take the deal or you can die."

"Okay," Dean began, watching Zachariah's face lift, "I get it: I say yes to Michael, allow him to fight Lucifer, or…" he pushed away the gruesome image of his friends dead on the ground. "That happens."

Almost tasting the promotion, Zachariah smiled. Closing this deal had been a task and a half, but soon it would be done. "But," Dean smiled, "I think I'd rather die on my own terms, not on the off chance that Michael loses." As he looked around the room for an exit, he wasn't surprised to find there wasn't one. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a motel to get back to."

Zachariah's face fell. The divine businessman was getting tired of this ape's procrastinating. Kneading the space between his eyebrows with two fingers, Zachariah grimaced, he would have to bring out the big guns to seal this deal. If seeing what would happen to his friends didn't work, then perhaps reading about their primitive, "feelings," would. Motioning for Dean to sit, the angel dropped a worn leather journal upon the desk in front of him.

"Read." He growled. Sighing, Dean knew it was useless to argue with an angel. As he opened the journal, he winced, recognising the angular handwriting of Prophet Chuck…


	2. Biographies

**Biographies**

Hey guys! As an intro to these diaries I am compiling, I'm going to give you some brief biographies of those involved, because it is highly unlikely that you'll actually meet them with the apocalypse and all, or get hold of my "Supernatural" series.

Firstly, there's Dean Winchester, the handsome and courageous leader of our band of misfits. After the violent and untimely death of their mother, Dean and his little brother, Sammy, were bought up on the road. Their ex-marine father trained them to be warriors, soldiers of vengeance, perfectly designed to destroy any monster in their way. After vanquishing the yellow-eyed demon that murdered both of their parents, Dean found he was destined for a bigger purpose: to become the vessel of Archangel Michael, and destroy Lucifer, ending the apocalypse. However, understanding that this battle would destroy half the planet and kill his baby brother, our leader refused, fighting for another way to save the world from the apocalypse.

Secondly, there's Bobby Singer, a grumpy old hunter, and father to all. Forced to kill his possessed wife as a young man, Bobby dedicated his life to hunting evil. Eventually, he settled into assisting the younger hunters, becoming a surrogate father to many, including the Winchester boys. After becoming possessed, Bobby bravely fought back, stabbing himself to get rid of it. However, this led him to become wheelchair bound. No matter what comes his way, though, he still fights as any able-bodied hunter would, protecting his adoptive son, Dean, in his fight against the devil.

Then there's Castiel, an angel of The Lord, dedicated to protecting Dean. After spending centuries following orders, Cas found himself doubting the morality of them. Growing to admire the human race, he began to doubt that God was the one issuing the orders. After gripping Dean tight, and raising him from perdition, Castiel found himself disobeying the angels and uncovering the fact that they were the ones starting the Apocalypse. Now, a fallen angel, Castiel protects Dean and any allies he may gather.

And, me! I'm Chuck Shurley, AKA Carver Edlund, the author of the "Supernatural" book series. Only a few years ago I found that two of my greatest characters were real. Dean and Sam Winchester turned up on my doorstep, with them they bought the truth (and an angel), and the revelation that I was a prophet of God. Ever since I've tried to help the boys all I could.

Then there's Sam, Dean's not so little, little brother, I mean seriously, the guy's huge! It's led to people, well demons, nicknaming him 'moose'. Just thought I'd slip that in there, I wouldn't want you guys reading this and being all 'WTF Dean's adopted a moose!?' and that's about it for Sam, I doubt he'll feature much in this story… I've been ordered not to tell you all of Sam Winchester's connection to the apocalypse. If I break the rules, Dean breaks my thumbs.

Happy reading!

(Please note: The Apocalypse isn't exactly "Happy Days," so tread carefully.)


	3. Dancing with Mr D

**Dancing with Mr. D**

10th June 2010

Dear Readers,

I am back, and I am a prophet of the Lord. I know it sounds weird, but, hey, it's the apocalypse, weird is the everyday. Firstly, you must know that I have requested the other members of Team Free-Will to write diaries, but I don't know how many of them will actually do it... Dean seems to want to lynch me every time I put the idea forward. Currently, we are hiding from crazed zombies, infected by the demonic Croatoan Virus.

Now, I will tell you the true story of the apocalypse. Let us join our unlikely band of heroes as they dined last night.

Sharp scraping of blades against metal mess tins rang throughout the camp. Dean sat there, a dark shadow descending over his emerald eyes, thoughts of Sam's "death" plaguing his mind. It was thirty five days since he had lost his best friend and baby brother, and he had counted each one.

Detroit, Michigan, AKA Rock City, had been destroyed, Sam Winchester along with it.

Across the sticky wooden table, an angel with a frown upon his face scanned the room. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Sharp pains had been shooting through his skull for the past few weeks, and now he was unable to properly concentrate. We all knew what it meant, but how long will it be until then?

Okay, that's just a snippet of our situation, but I can't write what isn't there, can I? So I'm going to wait until God slips me a little info, or something crazy happens in camp, wasting paper is a no-no.

Love,

Carver Edlund (Chuck Shurley)


	4. Cold Grey Morning

**Cold Grey Morning – 10th June 2010**

That idjit, Chuck, seems to think that writing down our 'feelings' is going to help us get over losing Sam, well it aint! I practically brought up the kid; the times John dumped the boys with me to chase a lead was the only real childhood they got. It hurts losing him, sure, but having to watch Dean pretend like its okay, that's worse. He just acts like it didn't happen, he won't even talk to Cas, he aint the only one who lost something, Cas has lost the only thing he ever knew, hell he's lost most of himself.

We've set up shop in an old summer camp, Dean's thrown himself into making this place liveable, keeping the rest of us safe and drinking. The poor kid just aint coping, he don't sleep any more, he drinks himself into unconsciousness. The rest of them are just ignoring it, well everyone 'cept Cas. Most days I just see him stood alone, staring, it's like he's still trying to tune into Angel radio. They don't seem to be there anymore, or if they are they don't care 'bout us 'mud monkeys' no more. I'm pretty much useless in the resistance, just an old drunk in a wheelchair, and I'm the one coping best!

Bobby Singer


	5. Blaze of Glory

**Blaze of Glory**

14th June 2010

Dear Readers,

Just as the dim, yellow sun rose above the camp, there were calls to arms. Everyone grabbed a weapon as they set eyes upon a hoard of savage Croats tearing through the wire fencing.

Soldiers stormed out of the old cabins, giant guns and rusted machetes held aloft. Ahead of them stood Dean Winchester, the sun reflecting off of the giant blade and firearm he had in each hand. He stood out, so bright, so terrifying, leading the charge against the monsters, mercilessly tearing the beasts apart.

The smell of gunpowder and copper filled the air; the sound of tearing flesh and ringing of guns exploded around us. Lester Patel, who once worked in a Californian branch of Biggerson's Pie Bar, still garbed in his white shirt and grey tie combo, tirelessly fought. With his machete, he swept an oncoming Croat across the legs and decapitated it, thick red blood drenching him as he did. Taking out a few more, he charged forwards to help his co-worker, Jeff. The two, although drunk, tore great chunks out of the enemy forces.

However, before they knew it, they had been overwhelmed. Realizing their fates, they turned to each other and said in unison, "Jeffster is going out in a blaze of glory!" Even though they knew they were doomed, they sang the old Bon Jovi song, as they were descended upon.

Their song could be heard across the camp, bringing a new sense of purpose to all fighting, and, before long, the Croats were dead.

Two pyres were built high, one for the Croats, another for the fallen heroes. As the bodies of his allies blazed, Dean gazed into the flames: he would fight for the fallen. He would win, or he would die.

That was the fight that happened yesterday. God blesses Jeff, Lester and all those fallen, I'm sure.

Love,

Carver Edlund (Chuck Shurley)


	6. Sparks of the Tempest

**Sparks of the Tempest – 17th June 2010**

It's been an eventful week, some of the Croats managed to get through the perimeter a coupla days ago. We lost a few men, but I think we lost Dean too, least how he used t' be. The way he cut down those monsters, I've seen dedicated hunters in my time, but that, it was like watching a demon kill. He was emotionless; he got most o' them himself, there were kids with 'em and Dean didn't even flinch as he gunned them down. We were almost overrun until two average Joes, Lester and Jeff, from the local Biggerson's, sacrificed themselves to save the rest o' us. We celebrated their sacrifice all right, they went out like hunters and we gave 'em a hunter's send off, kept their pyre burning as long as we could. Chuck was pretty much useless; we thought the idjit was dead! Couldn't find 'im for a few hours, then Cas found him hiding by the Impala, I'm pretty sure he was cryin' but he wouldn't admit that to that. Cas didn't fair too well either mind, he's never been able to use a gun, but either he's got worse or the poor kid's developed a conscience.

Bobby Singer


	7. Stock Master General

**Stock Master General – 20****th**** June 2010**

I found Chuck in my cabin today, seems like the idjit was looking for me diary! I told him that if I found him in 'ere again he'd be leaving in a body bag, that had him scuttling off! I'll give it to the kid though; he's adapted well, better 'n most. Dean's gone T1000 on us and Cas, well he's been quiet, barely comes out of his cabin. Even when he was on the run from upstairs, he had a purpose. I think the kid's lost personally, that or he's losing his juju, he jus' don't pop up like he used to. Anyway Chuck's decided to declare himself Stock Master General, he marches about camp with a little clipboard, Gawd knows where he got that, checking things off and mumbling to himself. He even had the gall to take me toilet paper supply! That kid thinks he's God or Sommat!

Bobby Singer


	8. Beyond Here Lies Nothin'

**Beyond Here Lies Nothin' - 08****th**** March 2011**

Castiel woke the camp today, he charged out of his cabin, screaming about feathers. If the kid wasn't scared enough, Dean bursts out of his hut waving that gun o' his about! Well so I've been told, of course I miss all the action, stuck in bed, 'cause I can't get meself out quick enough. The rest of the damn camp has taken to whispering 'Poor Bobby' behind me back! I don't need no pity! Pity those who got turned before they knew what happened, hell pity Sam an' Dean; those boys can't function alone. Anyway, once Dean managed to calm Cas down, through a mixture of whiskey and threats, he finally explained what was wrong. Turns out his feathers were falling out, a sure sign he's lost the rest of his mojo. After that he started fitting and I had to knock him out before he hurt himself, the kid looks awful, an' smells worse, like arson in a brewery. I've looked through ev'ry thing I have 'bout angels, an' nothin' mentions anything about them running outta charge, I think this is it, upstairs has us on lockdown.

Bobby Singer


	9. Angels Have Fallen

**Angels Have Fallen**

March 11th 2011 AD

Dear Diary (Or "To Chuck" the only person who will actually read this),

I do not see why I am to write my "feelings" down. However, Prophet Chuck claims that this will help me with my "problem." How can writing about this make it any better? How can a few words help me now?

There is no point going over the same facts again and again when we all knew for over a year that my brothers would abandon Earth. I tried to avoid notifying the others of my fading Grace, but they are far more observant of an angel that requires food and sleep, so that only lasted a few weeks, at most. But the biggest changes started two days ago.

The things I felt as I changed were, "Disturbing." There was a shooting pain in my skull and my wings burned greatly. Apparently, I woke the whole camp with a cry of pain; yet, all I know is that I woke up surrounded by feathers and blood.

I ran from my cabin calling for my brothers to come back, to help us. I... Even asked to be taken. I've been praying to my Father. I don't want to abandon Dean and Bobby, but I've never felt so useless; I can barely hold a gun, and they insist on saving me from every near-death situation. I am grateful for that, but Dean's constant self-sacrifice makes me wonder if he is just suicidal after Sam accepted Lucifer.

That woman, Risa, dragged me into the mess hall before Dean could shoot me. They didn't know what to do, so fed me whiskey and other alcoholic beverages, and Dean threatened to go all "Padded cell" on me if I did not calm down.

Bobby arrived claiming that none of his books said what was going on, and that I smelt, "like arson at a brewery."

I understand that I had a seizure and they were forced to, "subdue me with use of violent force." So, now I am awake finally after three days being asleep.

I will try my brothers again, and hope they can hear me.

From,

Castiel


	10. I've Got a Right to Sing the Blues

**I've Got a Right to Sing the Blues - 11****th**** March 2011**

It's been three days since Cas had his episode, an' he's been sleepin' since then, the weird thing is that we've never seen his wings, 'cept in shadows, there hasn't been any proof he actually had 'em 'till now that is, his bed, hell his whole cabin, is covered in ash. Chuck thinks that this is what us humans see instead o' feathers, an' I agree with him, it explains why, when they die, they leave those burns on the ground. That's what has us worried, is he dying or does he jus' have angel flu?

Cas woke a few hours ago, blabbering Enochian. It's a miracle he's still alive, from what he's said only the strongest angels can survive, an' im glad he did, hate to admit it but I've grown fond o' the god botherer. I'm glad for Dean too; he's taken Cas under his wing since the apocalypse. Balls! No pun intended there, hope Cas don't get ahold o' this… Or Chuck, don't want that idjit knowin' I care.

Bobby Singer


	11. Veni Redemptor Gentium

**Veni Redemptor Gentium**

December 25th 2011 AD

Dear Diary,

Today was peculiar. I know Christmas is a large event for humans, but Jesus would've been born in July. December 25th is the pagan celebration of surviving the year. We angels... no angel had even met Jesus. Americanization of holy books and events has made Christmas a confusing event for my kind... angels, ever since the Victorian era.

According to Dean, who claims he isn't actually Christian, Christmas is all about presents, alcohol and food. As a child it was about family, but he says he now celebrates it for the beer, shots and pie. He supported this by proceeding to drown himself in alcohol, and being berated by Bobby, who was equally as drunk.

Everyone was surprised when Gabriel and Balthazar walked into camp this morning carrying giant sacks. Dean immediately drew his gun, claiming that he'd go to Hell before he let the Trickster hide with us. Balthazar noticed the few mismatched decorations Dean had allowed, and then laughed, saying, "Is it really Christmas, already? Gabe, I think you've missed your queue to warn a local virgin about her holy burden."

It seems Dean had fallen prey to one of Gabriel's "lessons," so I had to stop the two of them being "Ganked." When Dean recovered from my attempt at diffusing the situation, I explained that Gabriel was an archangel and that Balthazar was an old friend and comrade. Bobby then told us to haul them into the mess hall to have a "Little heart to heart." It was actually an interrogation. Balthazar came straight out with everything, telling us that they were carrying their wings in the giant sacks and that they had been walking for nine months, trying to find me. Apparently, all the other grounded angels had either died or left with the others.

The two of them then "Moved in" to my cabin. Gabriel told me off for leaving my feathers, "Laying around all bloody." And Balthazar claimed that I was nesting. We all then talked and drank into the night. I'm only writing this now Balthazar has found himself some "Company" in another cabin, and Gabriel has gone to, "Squat a grumpy." Angels should not be human.

From,

Castiel


	12. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

**Hark the Herald Angels Sing! – 25****th**** December 2011**

Merry Christmas y'all! And what a great Christmas it's been. Dean drank himself into a stupor within a few hours; Chuck, the spirit of stupid past, has been spreading Christmas cheer, with a few original stories, an' signed rolls of toilet paper. Don't ask. So after Dean lost most powers o' speech I got Cas to drag his sorry ass into my cabin for a touch o' Bobby Singer's sobering juice. I had to substitute a few of the original ingredients with what I could rustle up, but it worked jus' as good. He wasn't happy 'bout that though, he an' Sam started making an effort at Christmas, before he went to hell, and I suppose that makes it difficult for him now. But it's time he moved on! It's been almost two years since Sam took the deal, an' we've all had to deal with crap, Cas lost his powers, I lost me legs, well I lost them before but I'm mostly over it now. Chuck lost his fandom, but unfortunately none of his stupidity. I've ignored it for long enough, it was time I talked to the boy, though I don't know how much he took in, I thought I was a difficult drunk but compared t' that I'm practically priestly!

Well once we'd had a heart to heart, I'm not gonna go into details, he don't need his problems written about, Chuck. A miracle occurred, a damn annoying pair o' miracles actually. Risa started screeching about two men being sighted near the perimeter, arguing and carrying what looked like bodies. At that Dean launched into action, grabbing his guns and knives and storming out into the night. Leaving me to alert the rest o' the camp! Cas, for some reason, drifted over to the perimeter in a daze whispering in Enochian and saying 'it can't be' over an' over, till outta the trees two figures stumbled over the perimeter and face to face with Dean. Bad move. Dean took one look at the smaller o' the two and went berserk, started firing his gun all over the place and screaming about gankin' the SOB for not steppin' in when he shoulda. He continued like that till Cas wandered up and sucker punched him. Gotta say, that surprised me. While Dean recovered, and once Chuck wrestled the guns of o' him, Cas spoke quietly to the idjit that Dean tried to kill. Then he turned to the rest o' us and said, 'I'd like you to meet my Brothers, Balthazar and Gabriel.'

An' jus' like that we gained a pair o' fallen angels. Course we can't have 'em wandering round camp yet, we've gotta make sure they're clean, and haven't been sent by their big bro. So we took 'em an' their sacks of Gawd knows what to the mess hall an' played a little game of truth or die. Fortunately, Dean didn't get too involved after the one called Gabriel apologised a lot an' offered him a bottle o' whiskey. Still didn't stop him from trying to cut a few fingers off though. Cas just lurked in the back smiling a bit and jabbering to the British one, Balthazar, whenever he wasn't being poked at. Eventually Dean declared them to be clean and with a final kick in the balls for Gabriel, stalked off t' bed. Oh and the sacks, turns out they're full o' rotting angel wings! Real hygienic!

It's been a few hours since the god squad were reunited an' now I've got three very drunk an' very happy angels drinking a helluva lot of moonshine a few hundred feet away, having a sleep ova' and singin' highway to hell. It's gonna be a long night.

Bobby Singer


	13. Point O' No Return

**Point o' No Return – 31****st**** December 2011**

Those idjits, Gabriel and Balthazar got Cas high. An' are findin' it very funny! They came into me cabin giggling an' left me with Cas who declared, 'I think I feel it happening' before raiding me supplies. I didn't mind that too much till he started blathering about the purity of the universe and the sanctity of life. I never did like listening to the god squad's ramblings about higher powers. Eventually I got bored an' told Cas about how much Dean wanted to hear about the flight pattern of a bumblebee, I can't say I felt guilty about sending the stoner his way either, 'till it all kicked off. Eventually I heard Dean shouting at Cas for 'not shutting the hell up' and Cas shout back, 'You don't care anymore. You aren't my friend! I wish I never raised you from…' I wheeled my way outside in time to see Cas struggle to say perdition and run into Chuck's cabin. Dean kinda looked torn for a bit before bellowing 'I wish you didn't too' grab the nearest beer and head back inside his cabin.

Sometimes I have to agree with Cas and I wish Dean hadn't been brought back, he hasn't been the same since, but leavin' him there wouldn't fix anything, he broke the first seal to free Lucifer before he got out and he's certainly saved our asses more times 'n I can count. The kid jus' needs a little guidance sometimes. In a way Sam was his conscious, the ying to his yang, that didn't sound as stupid in my head, but it's true. Cas 'n I are all he has left now, an' I'll be damned if I let them drift apart because of pig headedness.

Bobby Singer


	14. The Prophet's Song

**The Prophet's Song**

1st January 2012

Dear Readers,

The New Year is here, and we are all filled with renewed hope that we'll survive the apocalypse. Before I met the Winchesters, if you had told me that I'd be sat opposite my best character and a hung-over Archangel, I'd call you crazy!

Last night was awesome; we ate, drank and had a giant bonfire. Sure, we have bonfires all the time, but they usually are to burn corpses. At this one, we had a hog roast; the pig was one that Risa had wrangled just outside of the boundaries. After, we all roasted marshmallows that were found in Gabriel's giant sweet stash, eight whole packets of them.

Everyone partied and had fun, but none more than the angels. It's no secret that Bally was storing some special tobaccos somewhere, so when he came out of his cabin starry eyed, we didn't really think anything about it. But then Gabe and Cass followed with the same expression, we all realized what a bad influence the British angel was.

Gabe and Bally dropped Cass off at Bobby's, and then came over to us for a game of makeshift basketball. It wasn't until later that stoned Cass and drunk Dean went all "Marital."

Quite funny actually, especially when thinking back to some of those strange fanfics Becky would subject me to. Poor Bobby, having to deal with those two crazy kids. We don't need to worry, they calmed down just before the party really began.

When the party really got going, we had classic rock karaoke. Gabe and I sang the Flash theme by Queen, together, and Dean sang Eye of the Tiger. Even Bally had a go, singing Bohemian Rhapsody with Bobby, Cass and Risa. It was awesome!

Everyone but Bally and Bobby seem to have hangovers. They are very, very lucky.

Love,

Carver Edlund (Chuck Shurley)


	15. Keep this Party Going

**Keep this Party Going – 01****st**** January 2012**

Damn, my head still hurts from the party last night, but my plan to reunite the warring lover boys worked. I can honestly see why Chuck's old fandom was so fond of 'Destiel'. Anyway, I know the way to Dean's heart, Pie! And as for Cas, well he seems to be a fan of Pot now. So I managed to convince the two of them to come to my cabin for their 'treats' and I became the good doc Phil, and spent the rest've my evenin' listening to those two bitch. Long story short, I fixed their issues while the rest o' the camp gathered fire wood and cooked food, even pie, after all it was a new year, and mebbe this one will be better 'n the last. After the two idjits 'kissed and made up' we went out to the ol' lake and had ourselves a new year's party. Though it was more like an episode of Chuck's gone wild!

Bobby Singer


	16. The Devil You Know

**The Devil You Know – 26****th**** June 2012**

Woke up this morning to see that demon Crowley wheelin' himself about in my wheelchair, He just sat and giggled as I tried to get up, he was practically cryin' when I tried to call the cavalry over. I don't know what he's been doin' the last two years but sommats happened to 'im. Gotta say he's lost most've the snobbery, but he's still an ass. So then Crowley wheels hisself over leans in close and says, 'listen darling we had undeniable chemistry, so let's make a deal, I'll give you your wheels, in return for a kiss' well what was I meant to do? He asked for a kiss, so I gave 'im one from his neck o' the woods, a Glasgow kiss. And at that point our glorious leader decided t' show up with the three stooges, and save poor ole Bobby from the King o' the cross roads.

While Crowley writhed about on the floor moaning about getting blood on his last good suit, Dean started chanting the exorcism and got about halfway through before Cas noticed a fresh burn on Crowley's arm. Turns out Lucifer's mooks had sealed Crowley into his vessel, serves the bastard right. And now Crowley wants to 'bunk up with my chums the Winchesters' and earned himself some more blood on that suit o' his for following that up with, 'or is it just the Winchester now? Now that Moosifer's leading my demons against you?' Turns out insinuatin' that Sam and Lucifer are buddies rather than in a hostage situation hit a raw nerve with Dean, and lets jus' say Crowley aint lookin' as 'dapper' no more.

Bobby Singer


	17. Sealed with a Kiss

**Sealed with a Kiss**

27th June 2012

Dear Readers,

Is it me, or is this just getting ridiculous? I'm now sharing my cabin with a demon called Crowley. He also happens to be King of the Crossroads.

Everyone knew a demon had struck a deal with Dean and Bobby, protection for assistance, but no one knew who he'd be shacked up with. Many of us believed the poor soul who would have to share with him was Rick, the childish and rich author from New York. It seemed highly likely, because, apparently, both he and the demon had a fondness for expensive suits, crime fiction and spending money on strange things.

However, as I stepped into my cabin after long day stocktaking, I noticed there was a short man garbed in a suit, lounging on my bed whilst reading Bugs, one of my truly lesser works in the Supernatural series. Classical music seeped in from under my bed, where it seemed he had hidden a CD player. The man looked around forty and, at that moment, I realized I now had a demon in my room.

Crowley, glancing up at me, made a comment of how I looked younger then he imagined, and tossed the book aside. Upon asking what he meant, the little man shrugged, mumbling about sharing a room with a man who had a god-complex. I argued with him, claiming I didn't believe I was God, and all he said to that was, "That is exactly what I mean, you bearded buffoon."

We then argued about my beard, beds and which angels could come in and how often. Eventually we managed to settle our differences and started discussing good alcohol and my books. It turns out the King of the Crossroads is now a fan! I just hope he doesn't kill me for a blood ritual.

If I survive, I'll write more soon!

Love,

Carver Edlund (Chuck Shurley)


	18. Me and the Devil

**Me and the Devil - 27****th**** June 2012**

Crowley seems t' have recovered from the beating that Dean gave him yesterday, well we can jus' about understand him now. He says, and this won't surprise you, he wants to make a deal. Is it me or is that demonic SOB getting repetitive? He wants safety from Lucifer's mooks in return he'll help out around camp. Understandably Dean don't trust him and neither do the Angels, but call me crazy, he seems genuine. So after a nice calm chat, hell who am I kidding, after a long argument with Dean I convinced him to put Crowley on probation. I hope to Gawd the mook don't let me down!

'Course now we got the issue o' where to put 'im. the god squad point blank refused, which makes sense, if I could see his ugly mug, his demon one that is I'd refuse too. So after knocking on ev'ry bodies doors an' having ev'ry body refuse, it left him to bunk in the dormitories. He weren't too happy about that. He refused to sleep with 'a group of unwashed, uneducated, mouth breathing hillbillies' So he moved in with Chuck, poor kid looked like we'd handed him a rabid animal, s'pose we had.

Bobby Singer


	19. Spread Your Wings

**Spread Your Wings**

November 17th 2013 AD

Dear Diary,

I don't know what to do anymore. All the drugs, guns... women... they don't help. I thought freedom would be easy, but it has just led to complications, morally and emotionally. I don't know what to do, everything used to be so clear cut, kill demons and follow every order. Only trust your brothers. Now it seems, that perhaps they were right about demons and trust and everything.

Crowley, that filthy sulphur-sucking demon, betrayed us. I just don't understand why, what does he gain from doing this? Pulling a Judas. He has cost me a brother.

We were all on a supply run; our scouts had told us it was a doable operation, ten or twelve Croats at most. Our group split, flanking and squeezing the Croats in tight ready to kill. It didn't go as planned, as there were far more of the creatures then we anticipated.

I heard Gabriel's yell, but Dean ordered me to stay the course, I couldn't, I told him that I had to help my brother. Running into the room, I saw Gabriel covered in blood. As I tried to help him, I could feel what little life he had left fade. When Dean arrived, he told me that Gabriel was better off dying, and that we couldn't help him now.

The others seemed to appear from nowhere after that. What happened next is just a haze, Balthazar was crying, shouting for Gabriel to wake up. He swore at God, Raphael, Zachariah, even Zeus. I think he then punched Risa in face, and got himself tackled by Dean.

The only brother I have left is leaving tonight to hunt down Crowley. I would join him, but my place is here, protecting Dean. I wish Balthazar luck, he'll need it.

From,

Castiel


	20. Bad Moon Rising

**Bad Moon Rising – 17****th**** November 2013**

Gabriel was killed on a raid today, the scouts had bad information on how Croat infested one of the buildings on the supply run was, an' well he died. An' it's my fault! Not directly but if I'd just had the foresight to know, that he was in it for himself. Crowley did this, he shoulda stuck the knife in Gabe's throat himself, took one look at the oncoming hoard and used his demon mojo to zap himself outta there, leaving Gabe alone. An' to make matters worse Castiel was the one who foun' Gabe barely breathing and torn to pieces. He won't talk to nobody now, not even Balthazar. He jus' sits there smoking and staring at the sky. Gawd knows I regret trusting Crowley, but he seemed t' have turned a corner in the last eighteen months or so. I killed the angel mentioned in the Gawd Damned bible, as surely as if I'd shot him meself. Dean hasn't said anything, but I can see it in his eyes, he knows it as well as I do, it's my fault.

Bobby Singer


	21. Bobby's Diary

**Bobby's Diary – 01****st**** January 2014**

Bobby died today, I found him slumped over his desk. Whiskey in one hand, pen in the other.

– Dean


	22. Who Wants to Live Forever?

**Who Wants to Live Forever?**

January 7th 2014 AD

Dear Diary,

Today was Bobby's memorial. He died six days ago of a cerebral aneurism. It seems everyone has begun to suppress their emotions. I know Dean hasn't cried yet, and I wonder if this has finally broken him. He's not the Dean I abandoned my brothers to help, he's cold. He's a broken and sad man, and I know everyone is whispering the same thing about me. They claim the drugs, the intercourse and my mindless following of orders is all a sign of depression. I don't think so. I've just given in to my humanity.

I have cried, though. Don't get me wrong. Bobby was the best father I have ever had, which is saying something because I was an angel. A pyre was built high just for him, and we drank late into the night, lighting fireworks and telling stories of Bobby's achievements.

However, earlier on in the day, Dean was up boxing Bobby's stuff, and I cautioned him about burning it all for fear of a ghost. It was wrong of me to, I think. He punched me in the ribs and threw me out of the cabin, saying that if he saw my face again today, he'd make me wish I never bought him back from Hell.

It was a bluff, because he saw me at the fireworks and didn't do anything about it. He must just be feeling grief.

Dean isn't the only one who has lost someone. Bobby was the father-figure to all of us who had lost our families. Risa and Chuck have no one since Bobby. Many of the other people I've encountered are orphans too. He will be remembered as long as we all shall live.

From,

Cass


	23. Old Friend

**Old Friend**

August 11th 2014 AD

Dear Diary,

There are two Deans in camp right now. One from the past, or an alternate universe, and the other from here and now. I think I have developed a preference for "Past Dean," as he's funny and not got a stick up his butt.

I'm wondering what now-Dean intends to do about his double, because he can't leave him here when we go on the mission, and can't take him with us... Oh, wait, yes we can. Zach would be protecting past-Dean. Him being here is just a lesson, probably trying to get Dean to say the big "Yes" to Michael.

I wonder what would've happened if none of us changed throughout this. Would we all be dead? Or would the world be a glorious shade of gold?

Chuck said the weirdest thing to me today, "I'm proud of you, Cass. I'm proud of all of us. Whatever happens, remember that. And I know God... I know God is too." I don't know if he's drunk or has seen something, but I'm glad I have a family who'd never let me down. My home is here with them. Chuck, Risa, Bobby and Dean. We'll never betray each other and never give up. This is why I can trust Dean to never let me down.

From,

Cass


	24. To Love is to Bury

**To Love is to Bury**

It's been years since Sammy died but, I've never forgiven myself for letting him take the deal. Dad gave me one task, look after Sammy, and I couldn't even manage that, hell I couldn't even fulfil his dying wish, if I'd just killed Sammy when I knew what he'd become, like dad told me to… Sam always thought I was the dutiful son, I guess he was wrong there, he was my weak spot, always had been.

Now that self-righteous douchebag past me has shown up, I can see him judging me, comparing himself to me. I was weak back then, if I went back now I would do what was needed to stop the apocalypse, kill Sam, say yes to Michael, and allow the whole damn mess to play out like God planned. He hasn't been here these last four years, he hasn't had to watch his friend fade into a parody of himself or find Bobby dead in a crappy little cabin, He died in his sleep, can you believe that? He always wanted to go down fighting; he died like an old drunk slumped over a freaking diary! Being judged by yourself is hard enough but now I know what Bobby wrote about me, and he was right I was lost, just not the day the perimeter broke, I was lost with Sam. Who's in some factory only a few miles away, trapped inside his head, having to watch Lucifer kill with his body, it's a trap, sure, but I'm tired, I've fought long enough, I should've said yes before the angels slammed their gates shut, I should have faced my destiny, not run from it.

So I'm going to follow my destiny and fight Lucifer, allow the plan to unfold. The plan years in the making, the one that forced my parents together and forced me and Sam into 'the life' I could have had a family, a home that wasn't some crappy motel in the nearest backwater town, Sam could be married now, have kids, a dog, be a lawyer. But destiny and the god squad intervened, it was always going to happen this way, I've spent my whole life saving people, hunting things, being part of the freaking family business.

I have a plan, to get to Lucifer and free Sam. Like I said he's baiting me, but he won't be expecting what I'm going to do, after all he only knows me from Sam's memories and now I'm prepared to do a lot more than I would have. I have one shot, one shot to kill the devil and I'm going to buy time by storming his hideout, Chuck, I know you'll read this and I know how much you will hate me for what I am going to do, or what I've already done. But understand, I released them, Cas, Risa, the others, even death is better than this; maybe Cas is home at last, home and happy. Their lives, my life, to save whoever is left. To fulfil our destiny.

And now here I am, writing in a diary, just like Bobby, like the rest of them, but why bother fighting it now, I'm not going to be around to talk to Chuck about my feelings, this is it, and this is most likely my suicide note.

- Dean


	25. What About Me?

**What About Me?**

14th August 2014

Dear Readers,

Lucifer has won. Team Free-Will has been destroyed and we few who are left cannot hold off the Croats any longer. Before this night is through, we will have joined our brothers.

I cannot write much more, but I must finish this story before we go. Whoever finds this must know of the heroes that resisted. Dean, the determined and courageous soldier. Castiel, the strong and faithful fallen-angel. Bobby, the kind-hearted, gruff old warrior who never backed down. Sam, the misunderstood young man, trapped by fate. Gabriel and Balthazar. Risa and me. And John Winchester.

We tried. We all tried. But it wasn't enough, now there is no-one. I can't stay, but maybe someone will pick up this book and learn from our mistakes. Maybe someone will stop the devil.

Good luck,

Chuck Shurley


	26. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Dean looked up from the collection of diary clippings, face grim, sickened by what he had just read. "You're freaking kidding me? Right?!" he exclaimed staring into the smug face of the angel Zachariah.

"That's how you let your friends down, Dean. You killed them all. You and your self-righteous pig ignorance." He shrugged and slowly closed the book. "But… you could stop this whole thing, avert it, you could save your friends. You don't _have_ to murder them." He whispered the last part, leaning against the table crossing his legs. Smiling he held out his hand, "Take the deal Dean, stop this before it happens," Dean glared at the outstretched hand, before he launched himself out of his chair, leant across the table, face inches from Zachariah's.

"Listen Asshat, I'm not going to say this again. I am not taking the deal, not now, not ever. So why don't you sprinkle some of your angel dust my way and send me home?" Zachariah looked uninterested, as Dean continued his tirade, moving only to raise one finger indicating that the young man should pause.

"I must say, I thought you had run out of insults for me, and that was... inadequate. Now listen to me, you infant: I'm not letting you return to your ill proportioned brother and that mopey angel of yours until you sign on the dotted line." His face fell into shadows as he said this, transforming the luxurious gilded room they sat in to a dark and menacing place. He waved a hand and Dean was suddenly restrained in an old torture rack, with a stained and dirty gag across his mouth.

"Now, I'm going to remove the gag, and there's just one teeny tiny word that I want to hear, understand, you Neanderthal?" Dean's face contorted in rage as the angel moved in close, expecting to hear the whispered "yes" that would have meant victory. Instead, Castiel appeared next to Dean, and growled at the self-satisfied angel, "He said no," before placing a hand on Dean's left shoulder, transporting him back to the motel room that Zachariah had kidnapped him from.

Castiel looked at Dean, and noticed his dishevelled appearance, "Where and what did he show you Dean?" he asked, fearing the answer. Dean stared at back at the once more innocent face of his best friend and answered slowly. "Honestly Cas, you do not wanna know" Collapsed back on his bed and drifted into troubled, Croat infested dreams.


End file.
